


Shot Through the Heart

by infinite_hyperion



Category: Trigun
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-05 12:33:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13387884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infinite_hyperion/pseuds/infinite_hyperion
Summary: Wolfwood wonders if he's good enough for Vash the Stampede-- and if loving the man is good for him.





	Shot Through the Heart

Wolfwood felt Vash pluck the half-smoked cigarette from his lips and place it in the chipped ashtray, which sat on a rickety amalgam of wood and metal the inn had the nerve to call a side table. 

“I wasn’t done with that,” Wolfwood said. He didn’t bother to open his eyes. 

“You keep falling asleep, silly! I can’t let you set the bed on fire; I’m sleeping here too.” 

“I’m not asleep, just resting my eyes,” Wolfwood replied. 

“Funny, I’ve never heard anyone snore that loudly while they were just “resting their eyes.” 

Wolfwood rolled over to face Vash. Most wanted man on Gunsmoke and top billing in Wolfwood’s heart and fantasies (except on occasions like tonight, when they moved out of the realm of fantasy and into reality.) Even now, it was difficult to contain the surge of emotions in his chest when he looked at Vash’s face, eyes shining with love for _him._

Even now, it was hard for Wolfwood to feel he deserved Vash, hard for him to love himself the way Vash loved him. 

“Well, I’m awake now,” Wolfwood said, though his body, drowsy with pleasure from the night’s activities, said otherwise. 

Vash smiled and moved closer, ignoring the ominous creaking of the box springs. 

“I’m glad,” he said, and Wolfwood’s heart twisted in his chest. He started to wonder if it was medically sound to love someone this much, for his heart to do so many acrobatics every time Vash looked at him with a gentle smile or kissed Wolfwood’s knuckles like he was some kind of royalty. 

He was still thinking on the subject when Vash pulled Wolfwood close and kissed the end of his nose. 

“Why do you do that?” he asked, wrinkling his nose. 

“Because it’s so kissable,” Vash said as if it was the most obvious statement in the world. “Do you want me to stop?” 

“Well…no,” Wolfwood replied. “But my lips are right below my nose, and I would much rather you kiss them.” 

“Hmm.” Vash tapped his finger on his chin. “That is an astute observation.” 

“Do you even know what that means?” 

“Of course I do! I am a well-read gentleman of the highest caliber, doomed to live the life of an outlaw for my manly ideals—” Vash and the bed both let out an ungodly squeak when Wolfwood rolled on top of him and kissed him on the mouth.

When they pulled apart a few moments later, both of them were laughing. 

“Nic?” 

Wolfwood froze at his own name, looking down at Vash in the dim light of the room. Spread over the rumpled sheets, he looked like a battered fresco of a martyr, face perfect and suffused with divine light; the rest of his body put back together and painted with a wanton hand. He would never be good enough to deserve this level of love and devotion from Vash. 

“Yeah?” Wolfwood replied. He cast a shadow over Vash, shading him in blues and grays and blacks. 

“I love you.” 

Wolfwood’s face softened. “I love you too.” 

He laid down next to Vash once more and they soon drifted off to sleep in a tangle of limbs and sheets. 

—

The next morning, Wolfwood woke up and found Vash already gone. Wolfwood envied Vash’s infuriating ability to stay up late and be up early the next morning, bright and chipper as a kid on Christmas. 

Wolfwood, on the other hand, dragged himself out of bed with the aplomb and grace of an anvil dropped from a great height. He yawned, gathered his rumpled clothes, and rewarded himself by smoking the remainder of last night’s cigarette. 

When Wolfwood managed to drag himself down the stairs, Vash waved a half eaten donut at him from a corner table. 

“Morning! I got you coffee,” Vash said as he pushed an almost full glass coffeepot towards Wolfwood. 

Wolfwood removed the lid and took a couple of long swallows straight from the pot. The innkeeper set a plate down in front of him, gave him a look and walked off. 

“Thanks,” he said before he descended on his food like a wild animal. Vash was equally enraptured with his box of donuts, and so for a few minutes, no conversation passed between the two of them. 

“So what’s the plan for today?” 

Vash shrugged in response before adding “We should probably leave town soon. We’ve already stayed too long.” A note of sadness crept into his voice. 

“Yeah,” Wolfwood replied, draining the last of the coffee. “I don’t that bed can handle another night of us sleeping in it.” 

“Probably not,” Vash said with a laugh. “It deserves a break.” 

_Loving this man is definitely not good for my heart,_ Wolfwood thought. _Then again, neither is all of this coffee._

—

As they rode together towards the next town on Wolfwood’s motorcycle, he couldn’t help but feel things were going _too_ well. They’d gone at least four days without any incidents or fights. 

He also hadn’t heard anything from Chapel, but that was expected. Wolfwood wasn’t exactly making it easy for his handler to contact him. 

“There’s a roadblock up ahead!” Vash shouted above the rushing noise of the wind. 

_That’s what I get for thinking,_ Wolfwood thought as he prepared to face off with the goons blocking their path. 

“Don’t kill anyone!” 

“Not even on the table when you’re around, sweetheart,” Wolfwood said as he pulled one of his handguns and shot out the tires of a Jeep. 

—

Wolfwood laid awake, unable to sleep after the day’s events. He and Vash both were bandaged in multiple places from various scrapes and close calls. 

He grabbed a bottle from beside the bed and took a swig. 

_Nothing like cheap booze to take the edge off the fact your boyfriend has a death wish,_ Wolfwood thought. He understood Vash’s philosophy on an intellectual level, but on an emotional level—

Was it selfish to want someone to live for you instead of lofty ideals no one but them could abide by? 

_Why do you have to let this terrible world use you as a punching bag? There’s no sainthood when you die, no feast day created in your honor. You’re just gone, and the world is so much worse because of it._

The thought made Wolfwood’s heart clench in the worst way. Vash turned over. 

“Come to…bed,” he murmured. His metal hand found Wolfwood’s hand and held on. 

Wolfwood set down the bottle with a sigh and crawled under the covers. 

“I love you,” Vash said. 

“Love you too,” Wolfwood replied. 

He fell asleep soon after, and didn’t dream of anything. 

——

**Author's Note:**

> So uh, this is my first Vashwood fic ever. I woke up this morning with the beginning of the story in mind and wrote all of it today. Apologies for any mistakes, might rework and expand it someday when I have enough brainpower to do so. 
> 
> As always, hope you guys enjoy.


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